So, here is the chapter of Hired Help that I promised. And I think I have gotten back into it so there should be more frequent updates. Also, if you haven't done so, check out my newest story One in a Million. And I should have a new chapter of that up by tonight.

Chapter Four: Randy's P.O.V.

I went into the kitchen and grabbed myself a beer before retreating back to the couch and sitting by Paul who seemed like he was in a deep conversation with Lacie about wrestling. This gave me the perfect opportunity to finally take her in. Her sandy blond hair was messily pulled high on top of her head. Her almond shaped eyes seemed like endless pools of dark chocolate and set off the milky, smooth complexion of her skin. I couldn't help but notice the cute set of dimples that appeared when she laughed at something Paul said.

Before I could catch myself, my mouth split into a grin.

"What do you think, Orton?" Paul asked, knowing very well that I had no clue what they were talking about but only said something to cause Lacie's attention to be on me as well.

I just shrugged my shoulders and took a drink of my beer, trying to hide the burning sensation in my cheeks. "Why did you come over here, Paul?" I asked once I regained my composure.

"Oh, yeah, Steph has called a creative meeting for Monday before the show and I figured it would be just as easy to come over here than to try and call you because I know a lot of the times you forget that your cell phone is for people to call you on," he said, getting up from the sofa. "I guess I should be going anyway."

"It was nice meeting you," Lacie smiled as she held out her hand to Paul.

"Nice meeting you, too," he said and took it before walking to the front door with me following behind him. "You sure do have a taste in workers, Orton," he told me once we were out of earshot of Lacie.

"Pure luck," I replied as I looked back at her.

"Alright, well, I'll see you tomorrow," Trips said and patted me on the shoulder before walking out to his car.

I made my way back to the living room with Lacie and sat down on the couch once again. Things were uncomfortably silent for a few minutes before I decided to speak up. "So are you originally from St. Louis?"

"Yeah, my parents moved here from Houston right after they got married," she said, taking a drink from her water bottle.

"Any particular reason?"

"No, I guess you could say my parents 'lived on the edge' or whatever. They always did these random things. Like I remember when me and my brother came home from school one day, it was like a Tuesday or Wednesday and my parents told us to pack a couple days worth of clothes because we were going to New Orleans, for absolutely no rhyme or reason. It wasn't even Mardi Gras. I guess Dad just wanted to go down to the French Quarter down there and Mom agreed."

I smiled at the way her eyes lit up as she talked about her family. "So, uh, just out of curiosity, how old are you?" I asked, kind of jumping around.

"Twenty six. I'll be twenty seven on April 30."

"Really? Me too. Well, tomorrow, not on the thirtieth," I said, kind of rambling.

"Yeah, you told me that earlier," she reminded me, chuckling slightly as she looked at the clock. "I think I'm going to head to bed. It's already midnight and I still have a lot more to do around here tomorrow. It was nice talking to you, Randy. Goodnight."

"Yeah, you too. Goodnight," I said as I watched her walk upstairs. I finished my beer before following in her footsteps and going to my own bed without a thought of Bobbie in my mind.

I stumbled downstairs the next morning to the smell of food cooking in the kitchen. I followed the aroma to see Lacie bustling about the kitchen, making breakfast.

"I thought I hired a housekeeper, not a chef," I joked, startling her.

"You scared me, Randy," she smiled, her hand on her ample chest.

"You didn't have to do this," I said walking up beside her and flipping the pancakes.

"No, go sit down," she told me sternly, taking the pancake turner from my hand.

"I thought I was the boss."

"Everyone deserves a day off. Now go sit down."

I raised my hands in defeat and sat down at the small kitchen table. That day's newspaper was already on the table along with a glass of orange juice. I smiled at the thought. "How'd you know I liked orange juice?" I asked her.

"It was in the fridge and since this is your house, it wasn't that hard to figure out," she said, setting a plate full of pancakes, sausage, eggs and toast in front of me.

"Damn woman, I'm going to have to spend eight hours in the gym just to work off breakfast," I laughed as she sat down beside me with her own plate of food. I took the sports page from the newspaper and set the rest of it in the middle of the table.

Breakfast was quiet except for short comments by Lacie about the nonsense that was on the front of the paper.

I finished my food before she did and felt like I had gained five pounds. "God, Lacie, that was good. I could get used to coming home to you."

"Thank my mother. She's the one who taught me how to cook."

"I'll have to tell her when I meet her," I smirked before finishing my orange juice.

She choked on her coffee slightly before answering. "You want to meet my mother?" she asked, thinking it was kind of weird.

"Well, eventually. You're going to be living here, so why not?"

She just raised her eyebrows before turning her chocolate eyes back down to the newspaper.

I sighed before looking at the clock. It was around ten and for some reason, I was hyped up and ready to get out of the house. But, with Bobbie gone and Paul back out on the road, I had no one to go anywhere with. Then I looked back at my housekeeper. She felt my eyes looking at her and stood up and began cleaning the table.

"Aren't you going to ask what my plans are for my birthday?" I asked her as she set the dishes in the dishwasher.

She looked up at me. "What are your plans for your birthday, Randy?"

"Going to the mall, maybe catch a movie and then out to the bar later tonight."

"Really? That sounds fun. Who's going with you?"

I smirked not taking my eyes off of her. "You."